The most enjoyable email I’ve ever written? Well, the following, dispatched from the Oriental Hotel in Bangkok, is certainly a contender: “Sorry, must dash. I’ve got a train to catch. The Eastern & Oriental Express, as it happens...”

It was the last I was going to send for three days and, yes, I did feel a quiver of excitement as I wrote it.

In an age when speed (and 24/7 internet access) is everything, I was relishing the chance to slow down and switch off - to stop worrying about getting from A to B as quickly as possible, but instead simply to enjoy the journey.

That, after all, is what the Eastern & Oriental Express is supposed to be all about – a return to a gentler, more romantic form of travel.

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Its very name conjures up an exotic world of lush tropical scenery and plush luxuriousness, of old-fashioned courtesy and conviviality, of adventure and excitement and life-enhancing encounters. I was only too happy to put the keyboard to one side. But would the reality live up to the fantasy?

The beginning certainly did: at Bangkok’s Hualampong station, the train had a separate check-in area, an exclusive lounge and porters dressed in the racing green of the train itself who busied themselves with passengers’ luggage. Somerset Maugham, who loved travelling in these parts, would have felt at home. He would also have enjoyed sizing up his fellow passengers for the 1,262-mile journey to Singapore, as I did.

We were a mixed crew, in terms of both nationality and age (though there was rather a large Spanish contingent). There were early retirees keen to explore parts of the world they missed in their youth; couples celebrating special birthdays and anniversaries; a mother with her 25-year-old daughter; a Japanese couple and their 12-year-old grandson; a gay couple; an American serviceman enjoying a break from duties in Afghanistan; one or two singles of indeterminate age.

The first glimpse of the train itself didn’t disappoint, either. Those racing green and cream-coloured carriages embossed with the Eastern & Oriental Express crest were an evocative sight, as were the attached signs reminding us of our route: Bangkok - Butterworth - Kuala Lumpur - Singapore. The very names (and the script in which they are written) were redolent of another era.

As was the interior. The wood-panelled compartments, of which there are three sizes - Pullman, State and Presidential - match those featured in the Marlene Dietrich film Shanghai Express.

Unlike those on the train’s older sister, the Venice-Simplon Orient Express, however, these have en-suite shower rooms, complete with Bulgari accessories. Although it feels as though this is a journey our great grandfathers might have taken, the Oriental & Eastern Express has only been plying this route since 1993, and its fittings are of a more modern age.

It all felt rather surreal when, at 17.50, the train pulled out of Hualampong station. The heat of the afternoon had been replaced by the balm and gentler light of early evening as we gravitated towards the outdoor observation deck, complete with padded chairs, protective railings, bowls of nuts, and convenient proximity to one of the train’s two bars.

As the shining domes of 21st-century downtown Bangkok receded into the distance we passed tiny shacks, families tucking into rice and vegetables and groups of waving children so close we could almost touch them. Quite what they made of us - Champagne glasses in hand - was anyone’s guess.

By now passengers down for the first dinner sitting were dressed in evening finery (“Men will feel comfortable wearing jacket and tie. Black Tie is optional,” the company advises). We must have made a perplexing spectacle.

Our first port of call the following morning involved a small detour to the west and an early wake-up to peer out at the wooden trestle viaduct at Tham Kasae, one of the most beautiful stretches of railway in Thailand. A little farther on was the place we had really come to see: the bridge on the River Kwai. It’s an impressive construction, or rather reconstruction, of the bridge built at such cost to many British and other Allied prisoners of the Japanese during the Second World War, and its harrowing history was vividly brought to life by Hugh Cope, an Englishman now settled in Thailand.

He talked us through a map showing the extent of Japanese domination in this part of the world in 1942 in the clipped tones of someone who could have starred alongside Sir Alec Guinness in the 1957 film detailing the building of the bridge.

There was another echo from the film farther downstream at Kanchanaburi where, in the graphically named Death Railway Museum, I caught some rather moving footage of one of the British survivors whistling the Colonel Bogey March.

After that it was a relief to get back on board and continue the journey south. Looking out of the window of my compartment I saw rows and rows of coconut trees and the occasional flash of a temple roof. I caught a tantalising glimpse of the Gulf of Siam. At crossings I saw young Thai men in brightly coloured shirts impatiently revving up their motorbikes.

For company I wandered back down to the outdoor observation deck. A British couple (celebrating his 40th) told me they loved the fact they didn’t have a busy itinerary.

“It’s great to be confined with no choices to make and no need to rush around and see things,” they said. “For the first time in ages we had some real time together, time to talk. It’s very classy; very romantic.”

These two obviously still had much to discuss and clearly enjoyed the liberty the journey gave them to do so. Even couples for whom having that much time together was no longer such a novelty seemed to be enjoying the chance to sit and do… not very much.

And there were always the meals to look forward to. Breakfast and afternoon tea were served in the cabin; lunches and dinners, split into two sittings, were rather grander three- and four-course affairs served in two elegantly appointed dining cars complete with gleaming crystal and silverware on white table cloths.

The food was a fusion (albeit a rather rich one) of Asian and European – spicy chicken and Chang Mai noodles, lamb and vindaloo jus – and, on my journey at least, the dress code was observed, most men opting for the jacket and tie option, but some going the whole way with DJs and bow ties. It was formal but not stuffy. Some passengers complained about having to dress up – but then why did they choose this journey I wondered?

Later on, in the piano bar, ties were loosened and inhibitions shed as one of the female passengers delivered a splendid rendition of Lady in Red... And all the while the sights and sounds of South-East Asia flashed by.

Once in Malaysia, the coconut plantations of Thailand gave way to the luscious tropical rainforest, the rice fields and the rubber and palm-oil plantations to which British entrepreneurs once flocked.

Over coffee, Leesa Lovelace, the train’s general manager, revealed that, for all the gentility, there have been incidents of skulduggery on board.

“Murders, oh yes. We’ve had many murders on board this train: there’s blood on the carpet all right,” she said, going on to spoil the story by saying the train is occasionally hired out for shorter journeys on which passengers can dress up as specific characters out of an Agatha Christie novel and play Murder on the Orient Express – the game.

In real life, the train has been the setting for proposals, a wedding, and “lots and lots of indiscretions”. I had a feeling that there had been one or two on this journey, but Lovelace was far too discreet to reveal them.

She was, anyway, distracted. A derailment farther up the line during the night meant that we could not move for several hours and were well behind schedule.

As a result we were not going to be able to stop at Penang – the “Pearl of the Orient” and the place that nearly all of us were most looking forward to seeing.

On hearing that we were also going to be very late arriving in Singapore, one passenger spoke angrily of a “total lack of organisation”.

“This is a slow train,” said Lovelace. “We’re on a single-gauge rail track. This is South-East Asia.”

Personally, I couldn’t get enough of the wonderful palm-packed scenery of Malaysia, though I did enjoy the contrast afforded by a one-hour stop at Kuala Lumpur where we were able to jump off the train to explore the fantasy of domes, cupolas and archways described by Paul Theroux as “the grandest station in South-East Asia”.

Later I tried one or two of the other diversions on board: a Thai girl providing foot massages (I only winced once) and a palm reader who told me in the train’s library/games room that I have a good wife (correct), will live for a long time (keep going...) and will have a successful career and a big house (but surely that should have happened already?).

As we crossed into the extraordinary tip of the Malaysian peninsula otherwise known as Singapore, we were struck by the great villas, perfectly manicured gardens and general orderliness for which Singaporeans are famed. “It’s bonsai-perfect,” exclaimed one of my more exuberant travelling companions as we congregated for one last time on the observation deck .

So, did the reality live up to the fantasy? It was time to take stock. Veterans of the Venice-Simplon Orient Express said there had been less formality here – more intermingling – and that the private bathrooms were a big bonus. For those with mobility problems, however, the narrower gauge meant narrower corridors and a somewhat bumpier ride.

We were all disappointed about missing Penang, but agreed that the scenery had been magnificent and the experience of travelling in the style of another era, memorable.

For most, the exhilaration at reaching the journey’s end, Keppel Road station in Singapore, was tinged with sadness at having to leave the slow-moving cocoon of the train, with its little rituals of cocktails, sleepy afternoons and convivial gatherings, and to return to the world of emails.

For some, however, the journey had not ended at all. For at least two people on board (and for all I know there may have been more), it really had been a case of romance on the Oriental & Eastern Express. And for them, of course, the journey had just begun...

Prices are per person based on sharing accommodation and include all meals on board, complimentary tea and coffee and sightseeing tours. The trips to Vientiane and Chiang Mai cost from £780 and £700 respectively. Check the website for special packages offering complimentary hotel nights in Bangkok and Singapore and inclusive trips from Britain.

Getting there: Singapore Airlines (www.singaporeair.com) offers a round trip from London to Bangkok (via Singapore), returning from Singapore to London, from £605 inclusive in economy.

The superjumbo Airbus A380 is now in service on the London-Singapore route. The same journey in business costs from £3,198; in first, from £5,432; and in the A380 suites, from £6,857.